


Illogical Week - Job Switch

by Noire73



Category: Broadchurch, Masters of Sex
Genre: Banter, Emergency c-section, I don't know what other tags to add, Illogical Husbands - Freeform, Illogical Week 2019, M/M, just a lotta fluff, spoilers for Season 1 of masters of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 22:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noire73/pseuds/Noire73
Summary: “How about a Detective? What do you think?”“Oh, you want my job?” Alec said with a wide grin, his arm had fallen into Bill’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he teased.“We could switch. I could be the Detective Investigator while you’re the Doctor for a week and then we switch back the next one.”“That would be a terrible idea!"





	Illogical Week - Job Switch

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do more for this the illogical week from @illogicalhusbands prompts, but I couldn’t make time for it, but I really, really wanted to write this. I'll probably upload the other 4 days. When I write them. You can also read this in my Tumblr @noire73.

“I can’t imagine having your job,” Alec had said almost out of nowhere during one of the rare breakfast moments Bill managed to force his spindly boyfriend into having.

“Why not? I thought we had agreed that in concept it’s a very similar situation,” Bill said, folding his newspaper. “We both need to be prepared for an emergency as we could get called at unexpected hours, we have to deal with people on a daily basis, late shifts-”

“Yes-no but, I mean- I don’t think I could bare telling an expecting mother their baby-” Alec pursed his lips, stuttering for a moment before he found the right words to continue. “It’s hard enough as it is on my side, I wouldn’t want to have to experience it from the very beginning like you do.”

Bill sighed painfully. He knew what had prompted this, he just wondered why it had taken Alec this long to comment about it. A few days ago, Bill was called in the middle of the night to perform an emergency c-section to an unfortunate miscarriage. Alec had been the one to drive him to the hospital, arriving just before the ambulance had.

When Bill had returned from the ER, he had been white as a sheet of paper, hands in his pockets, and gaze firmly stuck to the floor tiles. He had avoided the waiting room -where Alec had stubbornly decided to stay- the minute he had seen him from afar, not wanting to give into the suffocating need of grabbing him by the hand and running away from the hospital. He didn’t want to see the disappointed look on the would’ve-been older siblings. He didn’t want to have to see an elderly woman cry, small, fragile thing; he most certainly didn’t want to see the husband’s reaction, the sheer devastating realization of impotency, and anger. The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of himself when he had been on the man’s shoes.

It had been so long ago. Why now? Why was he being haunted by it now?

Bill had been so out of it, he didn’t see Alec approach him until he felt his hands softly on his arms. He tried to look at the taller man but he couldn’t will his eyes up or even lift his head just a tiny fraction. His eyes rested on the second button of Alec’s shirt, fighting a hard battle to keep the tears at bay. 

“Six months,” he barely whispered. “Stillbirth. We took it- took… out of her to- to prevent infection.”

“Bill-”

“Get me out of here,” Bill commanded in a shaky voice (barely louder than before) still not looking up at Alec, who didn’t take much convincing before he was leading them back to the car, a hand on his back the only thing he cared to focus on. The trip back home had been a complete blur of shadows and blinking lights. 

They didn’t talk, even though Bill could see from the corner of his eyes how Alec would sometimes look at him before huffing loudly. He had not been in the mood to talk about it yet, but having Alec beside him trying to figure out what was appropriate to do or say was really getting on his nerves, even though most of the times he found it endearing. Bill waited until a red light.

“I bought a couple of Cabernet Sauvignon from my last trip back to the States,” Bill placed a hand on Alec’s knee, squeezing softly, trying his best to look at Alec. “Maybe we could open one if you want.”

“If you’re up for it, yeah,” Alec dropped a hand from the wheel to cover Bill’s, entwining their fingers together. “There’s still some leftovers from earlier, we could- if you’re hungry, I mean,” his thumb was rubbing circles on Bill’s little finger.

“Yes, sounds nice,” Bill tried to smile, feeling just a small tug at the corner of his lips. Right before the light turned green, Alec lifted their joined hands to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on Bill’s fingers and carefully dropping his hand back to his lap. Bill started to miss Alec’s hand the moment the light change. 

The moment they were back inside the house, Bill leaned heavily against Alec, holding weekly at his jacket. There still was a hesitance in his partner’s response to this sort of contact, even after almost a year into their relationship. It was always a slow reach of hands that would snake their way up his back until they were wrapped around his shoulders. Slowly but surely, Bill thought. For all bones and sharp edges, Bill found out Alec gave pretty good hugs, always feeling the safest when he was cradled in his arms; that time hadn’t been an exception. 

As soon as Bill rested his head on Alec’s shoulder, his thin arms moved to encircle his shoulders, resting his scratchy cheek on Bill’s temple. He wasn’t hungry, he didn’t even want to drink really, he just wanted to lay in bed as the soft rhythm of his boyfriend’s breathing, the thumping of his once feeble heart. 

That’s all he needed. That’s all he wanted, but his feet were firmly planted on the floor. Not really knowing what else to do, his body completely frozen and unwilling to move, Bill finally left himself go, feeling a wretched sob tear through his body as he grasped Alec closer.

They held like that for a long time, with Alec whispering sweet, encouraging words on Bill’s ear. His arms eventually dropped down his waste to keep them upright better. Eventually Bill pushed himself away, apologising as he tried to dry his tears with the back of his hand roughly enough to feel the stinging drag of the skin, before Alec held on to it and whispered a soft “don’t do that.”

Moving to the living room with bottle and two glasses on hand, they sat there side by side, drinking slowly. At some point, Alec had reached an arm behind Bill, supporting it on the back of the couch, Bill started talking; he narrated what happened a few hours ago with detail, making Alec squirm just a couple of times (not really finding it in his heart to stop Bill as the medical report seemed to calm him down, even though Alec was having a hard time following up the more technical terms). It wasn’t until he reached the part where he had held the baby in his hands that he stopped, looking to a point far beyond the wall. 

Although he drew a couple of conclusions as to why this had affected his doctor so much, he was still unprepared to hear it.

“It happened to us. To Libby and me. I held our- I held her in my arms and I just- I…” he had been so stupid. “Our first success after so many attempts… after many failures,” said Bill, spinning his glass of wine by the stem with a shaky thumb and middle finger. “I was so afraid of- of how things would change. If I was really up for it or if I was even going to be a good father -which, well, we know had that turned out- that I thought it had been my fault she died because I didn’t want her…”

“Oh, Bill, that’s-”

“I know- I know. It took me a while to understand how out of my control that had been. Or- or so I thought,” Bill downed the rest of the wine. “I’ve been present for many similar procedures to this one but this time, it felt- if felt too close to home.”

Alec reached for the bottle, unsure of what he could even say to something like that. He filled their glasses with what was left, watching Bill make a face at his, wishing it was something ‘stronger’ than wine. “Look, Bill-”

“Do you ever regret choosing being a Detective?” Bill turned to look at him a bit more abruptly than his wine-dazed mind had appreciated. 

It took him a couple of seconds longer than he intended, still a bit aghast from the sudden change in their conversation. “No.” 

“Even after all the things you’ve been through? That- that thing about being the, er, ‘Worse Cop in Britain’ thing?” Bill leaned closer to Alec, pales eyes trained on the other’s darker ones.

“I-It has its ups and downs, like any career. Aren’t you the same?”

Bill sat further down the couch with pouty wiggle. “I guess so…”

“Do you?”

“What?”

“Regret it?” Alec asked in almost a whisper.

“Not really. I knew what I wanted to be very early on. Never saw myself as anything else,” Bill took a couple of sips of his wine. With an amused snort, he continued: “Imagine me as a lawyer or a politician.”

“Wouldn’t vote for you, that’s for sure.”

“Well, I wouldn’t for you either,” Bill elbowed him softly.

Alec pushed back. “As a lawyer I think you would be quite fierce and unrelenting. Wouldn’t want to be the poor bastard that had to go opposite of you, though.” 

“Like you wouldn’t be the same,” they laughed, the bubbly feeling of the wine was finally make its effects present. “How about a Detective? What do you think?”

“Oh, you want my job?” Alec said with a wide grin, his arm had fallen into Bill’s shoulders, pulling him closer as he teased.

“We could switch. I could be the Detective Investigator while you’re the Doctor for a week and then we switch back the next one.”

“That would be a terrible idea! Can’t even find your own house keys in the morning, ya want to find a criminal like that?” 

Bill slapped him in the knee with his free hand while having a giggling fit. It was rare to see a drunk Bill Masters enjoying himself instead of the angry and tired mess he occasionally allowed to surface. Alec was determined on keep making him laugh like that more for as long as he could.

“Seriously though, I have terrible bedside manners, you would probably lose a lot of patients because of me.”

“Might be more fit for the morgue, then,” Bill slurred.

The gasp that escape Alec sent Bill into another fit of laughter, having to resign on leaving his empty glass of wine on the side table to prevent himself from dropping it. 

“You cheeky bastard!”

That had been days ago; the idea of switching careers stayed with them for a couple of nights. Nights that served to show both men that they would’ve probably died of hunger as actors. Still, they entertained the idea for long enough were Bill would sometimes refer to Alec as ‘Dr. Hardy’ when on the telephone and Alec would call him ‘Detective Masters’ in return. Bill didn’t think he would’ve taken it as a serious consideration until he sat down for breakfast.

“You thought about that often, then?”

“Not often, no,” Alec played with his omelette. “It came to mind recently.” 

Bill nodded, having to agree on daydreaming on the ‘what ifs’ a couple of times. “To tell you the truth, I couldn’t see myself in your place either. I don’t think I would be able to cope with the things you’ve seen. I admire you for that.” 

The sudden declaration took Alec off-guard, looking at Bill with wide-eyes. “Um, er, yeah- yes. Likewise.”


End file.
